Delcys

Many have commented on the recent reforms to the Venezuelan Hydrocarbons regime and its reach. Most people have focused on the irony of Delcy Rodríguez giving away the country’s resources after years of empty anti-US rhetoric and, of course, it is ridiculously tempting to do so. But the long-term questions beyond the political posturing of the US robbing Venezuelan oil linger: is the reform good for Venezuela? Was the previous regime really favorable to the country’s interest? Why has the reaction by major oil companies been rather slow or lukewarm, as the WSJ reported a month ago?

The debate over the adequacy of Venezuelan oil regulations predates January 3. A statist vision has prevailed among political elites for almost half a century. Contrary to the chavista narrative, the oil industry in Venezuela was nationalized by Carlos Andrés Pérez fifty years ago. Up until the 1990s, the State, through PDVSA, performed exclusively primary oil activities: exploration and production. Then, due to the sharp drop in oil prices, the cash-strapped Rafael Caldera government, using a provision of the 1975 nationalization law, had to allow for private investment in primary activities through service agreements with foreign oil companies. These contracts were branded as the Apertura Petrolera, which became a bête noire for the Venezuelan Left, who even tried to stop the process via the Supreme Court.

Chávez put an end to this with his 2001 Hydrocarbons Law reform, migrating from the service agreements to joint venture companies where the Venezuelan state was the main shareholder. The refusal of some companies, like Conoco and Exxon, to migrate to the joint ventures led to several of the arbitration claims against Venezuela. Another contentious aspect of the Venezuelan oil business was that only State-owned companies could directly export oil. Joint venture companies could only sell oil to another PDVSA subsidiary, which led to PDVSA running up huge debts with foreign partners.

The Chávez 2001 model ruled until recently. Only PDVSA directly, or the JVs where PDVSA was a majority shareholder, could perform exploration and production activities and export oil.

The Executive also retained very discretionary power over what is called the government take (the percentage of oil or profits taken as a consideration in agreements with foreign partners in the joint ventures and applicable taxes), which can be used by the government to drive down the profits of its private company partners, a major deterrent for private investment in oil.

Up until very recently, the Chávez 2001 model was ruling: only PDVSA directly, or the joint ventures where PDVSA was a majority shareholder, could perform exploration and production activities and sell oil in international markets.

A similar regime was implemented in Colombia. In 2003, that country reformed its hydrocarbon regime to its current iteration, where it removed the exclusive primary activities rights granted to Ecopetrol, and established that this State-owned company would compete with private companies for exploration through contracts granted by a newly minted hydrocarbons regulator, the ANH. The ANH grants exploration rights under competitive bids where Ecopetrol competes with private companies under the same conditions. The purpose was to simplify the existing bureaucracy and award contracts under competitive, transparent bids, instead of having an all-mighty State company that both drills and decides who drills under very discretionary powers, as is the current case with PDVSA.

This model was behind past reform proposals by the opposition and have been part of the expert discussion on oil reform in Venezuela, and it is also included in María Corina Machado’s oil sector proposal, which received hypocritical criticism from people who remained mum about Delcy’s sweeping reforms. This model is seen as a true break from the previous one, as it takes power away from omnipotent PDVSA and turns it into just another player who has to compete with private companies in competitive bidding before a national, impartial regulator.

The reforms do represent a momentous formal break with the statist oil policy that has prevailed in the country for over 50 years. Under the new Hydrocarbons Law, private companies can perform primary activities through contracts with PDVSA subsidiaries and joint venture companies, and can export oil directly to international markets, paying the government take. The law, enacted on January 29, 2026,  also establishes that these contracts can include arbitration clauses, which can provide more certainty and guarantees for potential investors than submitting them to Venezuela’s infamously corrupt and dependent courts. The law also worryingly removes parliamentary oversight over the oil sector.

But the catch is that abiding by the law has never been chavismo’s strong suit, and they had been violating the Hydrocarbons Law since 2018. Under the aegis of the disgraced oil czar/soccer player Tarek el Aissami, PDVSA started signing contracts granting primary activities rights to private companies, as well as the right to directly export oil. This was done on dubious legal grounds under presidential emergency powers. Thus, the 2026 Hydrocarbons Law is only a regularization of a de facto situation that already existed.

The new regulations give a lot of discretionary power to the government to control the performance of the new contracts and to set the government’s take unilaterally.

As with everything in life, the devil is in the details, and the new law is very scant on the details of the new contracts, it seems to have been drafted in a rush. It defines very broadly the terms and conditions of the contracts (the new contracts pertaining to joint venture companies are only mentioned in passing) while at the same time giving the government wide discretionary powers to interpret them, and the last thing any international investor wants is to give chavismo discretionary powers over anything.

Delcy Rodríguez also enacted new regulations of the Hydrocarbons Law (which have not been updated since 1943) and two additional resolutions establishing some parameters for the government take. A centralized regulation of the government take is a welcome change, but the reaction to it has been mixed, as it gives a lot of discretionary power to the government to control the performance of the new contracts and to set the government’s take unilaterally.

The law also fails to incorporate any change to the current structure of the Venezuelan oil architecture. Unlike the reform in Colombia, the new law does not remove the elephantine, vastly discretionary bureaucracy that chavismo created.  PDVSA remains the almighty administrator of Venezuelan oil with no independent technical supervision of its role.

So, are the reforms good? They do signify a break from the statist vision of the oil industry, one that does not correspond with the wretched state of the Venezuelan oil sector. However, it is obviously a patched-up, limited instrument enacted by Delcy’s multiuse minions more to appease Donald Trump (even the reaction from American oil companies has been lukewarm) than anything resembling a definitive vision for the Venezuelan oil industry in an era of decarbonization.

The most likely outcome, already playing out according to the WSJ piece, is that the major oil companies (already traumatized by the previous experiences with chavismo expropriation frenzy over 20 years ago) remain skeptical or limit its investment due to the lack of clear guarantees and conditions and smaller, less known and less risk-averse companies are the ones who end up signing these contracts for a short-term gain. Chevron, who is now the most powerful player in the Venezuelan oil business, publicly signaled that the law doesn’t go far enough for them, and, considering their leverage with the Trump administration, it is possible that the Rodríguez regime is forced to further liberalize and refine the text of the law. But under the current conditions of legal uncertainty and arbitrariness no company, whether big or small, will risk investing the vast amount of money needed  (about 183 billion dollars) to recover the Venezuelan oil industry after decades of destruction and pillage. Oil companies may be evil, but never stupid. 

All of these scenarios have a limited effect on the recovery of the Venezuelan oil industry without a democratic transition because for any law to have a meaningful impact on the economy you need actual rule of law and independent courts, and you also need actual experts drafting the new laws. Not the very few lackeys of the most incompetent government in our history who happen to be proficient in English.

The photo is from Workers’ Day in Venezuela, when Delcy Rodríguez, wearing a blue Ronald Acuña baseball jersey, announced a long-awaited minimum income increase after several days touring the country, campaigning for a land of peace and prosperity, free of sanctions.

Us Venezuelans know that chavismo loves a propaganda makeover. They can be good at it too, in all honesty. The aftermath of the capture of one of the world’s most loathed autocrats, and the takeover by his supposedly pragmatic, corporate-like vice president was never going to be an exception when it comes to PR reinvention.

Media outlets have noticed the changes in the Caracas landscape: the image of Nicolás Maduro (and to some extent, that of former First Combatant Cilia Flores) is starting to disappear from view. Large billboards featuring the couple, including the phrase “we want them back” (los queremos de vuelta), are getting withdrawn.

This occurs as there’s serious discomfort inside chavismo about how close the Delcy-Trump relationship has become: from the drastic U-turn in the Alex Saab case to increased “supervision” from the US embassy in Caracas and the joint military operation targeting the Tren de Aragua leader, it looks like Washington’s tutelage keeps expanding and deepening at great speed.

Delcy herself is not the main focus. The idea is to convince Venezuelans that things are improving, to encourage them to imagine how the country could thrive if sanctions are lifted.

The official strategy now seems to put Maduro on the back burner, letting him fade away from short-term memory. Getting rid of his image entirely won’t be easy, of course. After all, his face and personal brand—his Super Mustache, and the tricolor M letter from his 2018 presidential campaign which became an official emblem of sorts—can still be seen on public signs, painted in walls and even in official vehicles.

This mirrors what happened earlier with the visual trademarks of the late Hugo Chávez, like his famous eyes and rabo e’ cochino signature. Maduro had reduced their public use and replaced them with his own iconography, for better or for worse. 

Blue-hued efficiency

This sudden shift in dropping Maduro’s image brings an important question to mind: what will replace it? 

One option would be to have Delcy’s face in huge billboards across avenues and highways. But that has not been the case so far. 

Two elements are noticeable. First, Delcy herself is not the main focus. Instead, the idea is to convince the Venezuelan people that things are improving, and to encourage them to imagine how the country could thrive if (more) US sanctions are lifted.

She has embraced a more traditional “head of state” role, prioritizing highly-publicized formal meetings where she signs letters of understanding (often disguised as actual contracts) with foreign investors as signs that the country is back on track and open for business. That completely aligns with how the Trump administration and POTUS himself sell their role here.

Political advertising from the Delcy Rodríguez government tries to project a nation of diverse, forward-looking citizens, which is a huge departure from the Chávez-era exaltation of the all-red masses. Note the Star of David on the left-hand side of the image above, a nod to both the US and a Jewish community famously insulted by Chávez. 

Even Miraflores Palace got its own new styling for such occasions: the Cabinet Room was stripped of not only anything related to both Chávez and Maduro but also the pictures of the late Argentine President Néstor Kirchner. The room was named in his honor in 2011. In its place there’s now a large, White House-styled logo for Miraflores, which has been in use since 2018.

Then there’ the blatant decision of dropping chavismo’s traditional rojo-rojito red for a dark blue. 

Curiously enough, the Rodrigato has taken advantage of the full visual rebrand of the government launched last year by Maduro, which dropped the term Gobierno Bolivariano and related symbols used since the mid 2000s. 

The national flag and formal country name are front and center. The use of a broader institutional look is another stark contrast with the more personalized presentation from the Maduro years.

Delcy has used social media and trips both inside and outside the country in order to compensate for her brand-new stateswoman persona. But she doesn’t go as far as doing an Aló Presidente-style TV show or starting her own podcast like Maduro did with Con Maduro + (where Delcy was once a guest).

Delcy probably knows she is not exactly the most marketable presidential candidate. This rebrand is also an attempt to push her image in that direction while her aides and consultants still have time to sketch something viable.

So far, Delcy´s deeper involvement in mass events this year happened in late April, during the so-called “Great National Pilgrimage for a Venezuela Free of Sanctions,” better known for its shorter slogan Venezuela vuela libre (Venezuela flies free). At its core, it looks like an early balloon trial for what her campaign could look like in a snap election. On the surface, it seemed like an appropriation of the religious frenzy around the canonization of two Venezuelan saints—several months after that event, when Maduro was not in Brooklyn—and of the symbols and rituals of the Machado campaign: rosaries, people embracing a politician’s caravan across a village, blue and white clothes.

This particular change didn’t go unnoticed by former state television host Mario Silva, a longtime supporter of the revolución who has become Delcy’s most outspoken critic within chavismo. Silva recently told the Wall Street Journal: “Red used to mean combat… The pale blue is to put the masses to sleep.” The campaign itself became part of a heated debate between Silva and other figures related to the chavismo’s media ecosystem, such as Indira Urbaneja and the Argentine influencer known as Michelo last month.

Its launch was linked with the grand minimum wage announcement on May 1^st after a four-year wait. It wasn’t really the real wage increase that teachers, healthcare workers and public officials were hoping for. Since January 3rd, Jorge Rodríguez regularly takes over for her sister in public events. By the looks of the recent lack of activity in the official YouTube channel, it’s currently not at the same level of the spring period. The amount of related outdoor ads and street banners seemingly will do heavy lifting this summer.

Presidential disguise

Uncertainty hangs over Venezuela’s political future for the second half of 2026, but Delcy Rodríguez is clearly capitalizing on her position, using every resource at her disposal without facing any pushback from Washington. Yet, when it comes to the raw talent of a traditional politician, her shortcomings are no secret. Her speeches tend to be quite brief and dry. She has sounded nervous when caught off guard. She lacks the charismatic oratory of Chávez and the brazen rhetoric of her brother or her predecessor. She probably knows she is not exactly the most marketable presidential candidate. This rebrand is an attempt to push her image in that direction while her aides and consultants still have time to sketch something viable.

Coming back to Maduro, the little sympathy he had outside the most hardcore chavista supporters won’t improve. People are not missing him, never mind care that Delcy is shedding his old propaganda. Ordinary Venezuelans are generally too busy, dealing with their everyday problems, to pay attention to the politics of chavista PR.

In the end, this stealth attempt to erase Maduro’s image isn’t as simple as turning the page and moving on. Delcy needs to build a whole new persona that fits both the mainstream chavismo she wants to rally (and that still represents her voter base), and the one Donald Trump can be happy with.

She may not be able to deliver the rousing speeches of Chávez in his prime, or pull off the theatrical antics that Maduro leaned on for years, but playing the dignified role of “the President” may just work for her. At least for the foreseeable future.

A mastermind of Trump’s hardline Latin American policies, Mauricio Claver-Carone no longer serves in the administration. But according to well-placed sources, he’s “picking who can operate” in Venezuela, controlling access to the government, and creating conflicts of interest.

Speaking with reporters on May 21, US Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced that Venezuelan President Delcy Rodriguez was on her way to New Delhi to discuss energy issues, and that he would be in India as well.

“This is an important trip, I’m glad we’re able to do it,” Rubio chirped after explaining the trio of nations would discuss how to increase Venezuelan oil sales to India.

His statement — and his announcement of Rodriguez’s trip before she had — perfectly illustrated Washington’s newfound dynamic with the Venezuelan government. Following over twenty years of hostile relations with Venezuela’s socialist-oriented leadership, the US Secretary of State was apparently so intimately involved with day to day affairs in Caracas that he was claiming responsibility for Rodriguez’s international itinerary.

In fact, according to an insider who enjoys close contacts within both the Venezuelan and US governments, Rubio’s influence over Rodriguez is said to be traced to one “gatekeeper”: former Trump Latin America envoy Mauricio Claver-Carone. “Mauricio [Claver-Carone] is picking who can operate and Delcy [Rodriguez] is taking instructions,” the source told The Grayzone. 

A former senior US official with access to leadership in both Caracas and Washington offered the same assessment, remarking to The Grayzone, “Mauricio’s calling the shots on private sector economic positions, and if anyone wants in, they have to go to him.”

Hand-selected by former National Security Advisor John Bolton to serve as his Latin America charge during Trump’s first term, Claver-Carone no longer occupies an official governmental role. Instead, he has leveraged his legacy in the public sector to establish a Miami-based investment firm called the Lara Fund which could become a key player in the MAGA financial feeding frenzy in Caracas.

Described by the New York Times as the “architect of Trump’s tough Latin America policies,” Claver-Carone is a Cuban-American regime change zealot who once engaged in fisticuffs with Cuban diplomats as a young man. During Trump’s first term, he unleashed a financial “flamethrower” on Cuba, issuing scores of new sanctions that unraveled the Obama-era normalization policy and plunged the island back into economic misery. 

Claver-Carone has similarly masterminded many of the policies that define Trump’s relationship with Venezuela, from its recognition of the previously unknown Juan Guaido as the country’s “interim president” to the deportation of hundreds of Venezuelan migrants from the US to El Salvador’s maximum security CECOT prison. Many of those migrants had been prompted to journey to the US by the economically crushing sanctions unleashed at Claver-Carone’s direction. 

The Grayzone’s sources described the Trump veteran as the architect of the military invasion that saw Maduro spirited away to a federal penitentiary and installed Rodriguez as president following a stand-down by Venezuelan security forces.

“If he was in charge of implementing the kinetic side, maybe [Rodriguez] thinks she has to listen to him on finance,” the Venezuela insider said of Claver-Carone.

A report this January by investigative journalist Aram Roston described Claver-Carone as a “key backer” of Rodriguez following Maduro’s abduction, and cited sources who claimed he exercised decisive influence over Venezuela policy despite having left the administration.

Claver-Carone is now said to be at the heart of the most sensitive and consequential task Venezuela faces: the restructuring of its $170 billion in defaulted sovereign debt. Forced from several previous positions by corruption scandals and rancorous clashes, an operative with no official governmental position appears to be shaping the economic contours of Project Venezuela. 

“He’s got a lock on everything”

This May, the US Treasury Department authorized Caracas to hire a financial advisor to assist with the herculean task of restructuring its debt. The Venezuelan government selected Centerview Partners, a top-drawer investment and financial advisory firm based in New York City.

According to the former US senior official, Claver-Carone’s romantic partner and business colleague, Jessica Bedoya, boarded a private jet to Caracas soon after the big announcement, arriving with a top advisor from Centerview. It was her second trip to the Venezuelan capital, they said, after visiting in February to discuss financial matters. 

Claver-Carone did not respond to calls to his personal phone from The Grayzone, or to detailed questions sent by text and email. 

His partner, Bedoya, is the founder of the Lara Fund investment firm where he serves as managing partner. Her bio notes that she has also worked in the CIA and National Security Council.

Some insiders worry that her reported presence in the Venezuelan capital, together with Claver-Carone’s outsized influence, could represent a conflict of interest, allowing them to steer debt restructuring agreements to their own personal benefit.

“Now he’s got a lock on everything,” the Venezuela insider said of Claver-Carone. “He could say to anyone who wants to work in Venezuela, I’m the guy. I have the keys. If you want to play ball, invest with me.”

The former US official said Claver-Carone was raising capital for his Lara Fund while he served as a special government employee at the State Department. While Bedoya was running the firm, they said Claver-Carone was leveraging his position inside the Trump administration to pitch potential investors.

“Arbitrary and authoritarian actions that showed him to be a real thug”

When Trump appointed Claver-Carone to serve as the first American president of the Inter-American Development Bank (IDB) in 2020, he hired Bedoya as his chief-of-staff. The couple’s secret romance at the bank triggered an embarrassing ethics investigation after a hand-written contract was discovered showing they had agreed to pursue “absolute happiness,” and included a clause with punishments including “candle wax and a naughty box” if either party breached the deal. 

An independent probe ordered by the IDB discovered that Claver-Carone had increased his paramour’s salary by 40% – a $133,000 reward in less than a year. Investigators also found that the couple had racked up expenses on an IDB credit card during romantic getaways. 

Claver-Carone refused to participate in the investigation while accusing its authors of “fabrications.” In the end, IDB governors voted unanimously in favor of his firing. The US government endorsed their decision.

“President Claver-Carone’s refusal to fully cooperate with the investigation, and his creation of a climate of fear of retaliation among staff and borrowing countries, has forfeited the confidence of the bank’s staff and shareholders and necessitates a change in leadership,” they wrote.

The Argentine governor of IDB, Guillermo Francos, delivered a similarly harsh assessment of Claver-Carone’s tenure. “Claver was a disaster for several reasons,” Francos remarked in 2022. “For having an inappropriate relationship, for having disproportionately increased the salary of this inappropriate relationship, for having lied, and for these arbitrary and authoritarian actions that showed him to be a real thug.”

When Claver-Carone returned to the second Trump administration, it was not long before his proclivity for conflict jeopardized his position.

Throughout 2025, Claver-Carone’s spiteful attitude reportedly complicated Trump administration attempts to prop up a key right-wing ally in South America, Argentine President Javier Milei. Milei’s chief of staff happened to be Guillermo Francos – the former IDB governor whom Claver-Carone held personally responsible for outing his secret relationship with Bedoya. According to the Argentine paper Clarin, Claver-Carone attempted to retaliate by unsuccessfully pressuring Milei to fire Francos. He then attempted to undermine a major IMF loan package to Argentina by demanding the country first sever its credit line from China. This was met with an apparent rebuke from Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent, who visited Buenos Aires to express confidence in the IMF loan just weeks after Argentina’s central bank extended its credit line from Beijing.

The following month, in May 2025, Claver-Carone announced he was leaving the State Department to return to his Lara Fund. His departure gave the appearance that he had been forced out of his job. However, he maintained his clout through his direct line to Rubio.

The former US official told The Grayzone that Claver-Carone is now angling to become a Cuban American version of Jared Kushner, the Trump son-in-law who has leveraged his proximity to the president and role as Middle East negotiator to rake in billions from Israel and several Gulf monarchies despite having no official government title. To do so, he has allegedly inserted himself into the byzantine process of restructuring Venezuela’s debt.

When the Trump administration announced that Venezuela could hire a financial advisor to assist with its sovereign debt, Rodriguez initially planned a public bidding process for the coveted position. But then, according to the ex-US official, Claver-Carone issued support for Centerview, leading to the firm’s selection. (Opposition bloggers have speculated that Centerview was chosen because one of its partners, Matthieu Pigasse, is a self-described “pro-market socialist” who previously worked on deals with Maduro and Venezuela’s state owned PDVSA oil company.)

In recent weeks, according to sources, Claver-Carone has attempted to undermine financial advisors who had been working with the Venezuelan government to restructure its debt since 2014. 

They said that when Claver-Carone’s partner, Bedoya, arrived in Caracas this month, allegedly on a private jet with Pigasse, she began pushing to remove the advisory mandate from David Syed, a seasoned French lawyer who had advised Caracas on debt-related issues for over a decade, and is considered incorruptible. 

“The effort to push [Syed] out created a lot of tension,” remarked the Venezuela insider. “You can’t understand debt restructuring by parachuting in without his knowledge.”

Syed did not respond to The Grayzone’s request for comment. Hamouda Chekir, another Centerview partner who works on Venezuela’s debt, did not respond to calls and text messages sent to his personal phone.

Scandal-stained firms as vehicles for extracting profit from Venezuela

Just before leaving the State Department in May 2025, Claver-Carone convinced Rubio not to renew a sanctions waiver that allowed Chevron to sell Venezuelan oil in the US market. In doing so, he eliminated a mechanism which was explicitly designed to promote transparency and prevent local officials from skimming cash. 

This January, after abducting Maduro, the Trump administration granted confidential licenses to a pair of notoriously corrupt trading houses, Vitol and Trafigura, to export Venezuelan oil. The deal came months after Trump’s re-election campaign received a whopping $6 million donation from a senior trader at Vitol. 

Robert Bachmann, an analyst at the Swiss watchdog Public Eye, told the Washington Post at the time, “Trump is taking advantage of firms that know how to circumvent regulation.”

Both companies had been caught engaging in a series of elaborate bribery schemes across Latin America and Africa. In 2020, the Department of Justice (DOJ) forced Vitol to pay a $135 million penalty for bribing officials for licenses in Mexico, Ecuador and Brazil. Trafigura paid a similarly staggering fine in 2024 for a lucrative bribery scheme in Brazil. In the US, Vitol was rung up by the California Attorney General for manipulating spot market prices of oil.

But almost as soon as the Trump administration entered office, it neutered the DOJ corrupt foreign practices division charged with enforcing the judgments against Trafigura and Vitol on the grounds that it was “impeding America’s national security objectives.” 

Now, the profits these scandal-stained firms generate through oil sales abroad – including to Israel – are channeled back into a US-run account with little public oversight. A percentage of sales is then delivered back to the Venezuelan government. Where the rest goes is anybody’s guess. 

“The Venezuelans are the owners of the oil, and we know nothing. There is no transparency,” said José Guerra, an economist aligned with the Venezuelan opposition, complained to the Washington Post about the Trafigura and Vitol licensing agreements.

Trump, for his part, has essentially admitted Venezuelan oil profits are channeled into a slush fund for his international rampage. “We’ve taken out so much oil in Venezuela, we’ve paid for the cost of the war [with Iran] about 25 times over,” the president boasted during a May 23 campaign rally. While the president’s claim was absurd, as Venezuela is currently exporting only about one million barrels of oil a month – hardly enough to cover a full day of warfare – it revealed his avaricious attitude toward the entire operation.

Among certain Venezuelan opposition activists, Claver-Carone has become a figure of contempt who is partially blamed for Trump’s declaration that their de facto leader, the coup plotter and Nobel Peace Prize winner Maria Corina Machado, “doesn’t have the support within, or the respect within, the country.”

The Trump administration’s embrace of Delcy Rodriguez, and the Venezuelan president’s faithful compliance with Washington’s financial schemes, have prompted some top Democrats to adopt Machado as a partisan cudgel. This January, Chris Murphy, a ranking Democrat on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, praised the opposition leader as “impressive” following a meeting on Capitol Hill, while taking a nasty swipe at Rodriguez. Machado “reminded us that Trump replaced Maduro with Maduro’s head of torture,” Murphy proclaimed.

If the Democrats take Congress after this year’s midterm elections, the Trump administration’s dealings in Venezuela will face intense scrutiny from the House Oversight Committee. Bipartisan pressure will then build for fresh elections to usher in a new government. “Delcy Rodríguez is a terrible person,” the regime change-obsessed Florida Republican Sen. Rick Scott told the Wall Street Journal this month. “We’ve got to have an election soon.”

In the meantime, a flock of MAGA-aligned financial vultures has swooped into Caracas to feast on the petro-state’s post-Maduro carcass. Donald Trump Jr. is said to be hunting for opportunities in the capital for his 1789 Capital fund, while a startup backed by pro-Trump tech oligarchs Peter Thiel and Palmer Luckey, Erebor Bank, just struck a lucrative deal to reconnect Venezuela’s central bank to the global economy. In the midst of this frenzy, a figure with no government title, Claver-Carone, appears to be establishing the new pecking order.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of the Venezuelanalysis editorial staff.

Source: The Grayzone